reincarnated in the world of naruto

The steam from the soup rose into the cold air of the base, enveloping the atmosphere with a faint aroma of spiced broth. Around me, the Root shinobi ate in silence, with the same efficiency they used to kill. Their faces were impassive, as if last night's massacre had been a mere formality.

It wasn't much different for me.

I brought the spoon to my lips, calmly observing the others. My gaze drifted to Orochimaru. He was sitting some distance away, sipping his soup with an almost theatrical calm. He didn't need to look directly at me to make me feel his presence. I knew he was watching me, even if he pretended not to.

I finished my bowl and stood up, moving away from the group. I had no interest in Root's empty conversations or Orochimaru's persistent attention. I needed to rest.

I walked to a secluded corner of the base and leaned against the trunk of a dry tree. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting my body assimilate the healing. Despite my Mangekyō's regeneration, I still felt an echo of fatigue in my muscles.

"That genin…" I thought, recalling his terrified face.

Kaelo. I had the chance to kill him, but I chose something better: to let him live in fear. If he survived, maybe he would become someone worthy of facing me in the future. If he returned to his village, he would most likely be executed for cowardice, knowing how the old Ōnoki would suspect why he didn't have a single wound.

Either way, his fate didn't concern me.

I exhaled slowly, letting the cold air clear my mind. But just as I was beginning to relax, a familiar presence crept into the periphery of my awareness.

"You like to isolate yourself, huh?" Orochimaru's serpentine voice broke the stillness, dragging each word with his usual mocking tone.

I didn't open my eyes.

"I don't like gossips."

Orochimaru let out a low, soft laugh, like the hiss of a snake approaching its prey.

"How interesting…" he murmured. "I wonder if you think the same of me."

I opened my eyes and turned my head slightly to meet his gaze. That expression of his, a mix of amusement and an insatiable hunger for the unknown, was always unsettling.

"You're not a gossip, Orochimaru," I said calmly. "You're something else."

His eyes gleamed with amusement.

"And what am I then?"

I stared at him. It wasn't necessary to say it. He knew, and so did I.

Orochimaru smiled, as if my silence was more satisfying than any answer.

"You're different from the other Uchiha…" he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "You're not driven by pride or the glory of your clan. It's… refreshing."

He leaned slightly forward, his tone dropping, almost to a whisper.

"But tell me, Arata… what is it that you truly seek?"

I didn't respond immediately. Somehow, I felt that question wasn't as innocent as it sounded. Orochimaru wasn't asking out of mere curiosity; he was dissecting, analyzing, looking for weaknesses.

I smiled, but without joy.

"I don't owe you an answer."

Orochimaru let out a soft, drawn-out chuckle. He straightened up slowly, stretching his arms as if the conversation had entertained him enough… for now.

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Eventually, I'll find out."

He turned and began to walk away. Just before disappearing into the shadows, his voice floated in the air like a venomous echo.

"Have a good rest, Arata."

I watched him disappear, then closed my eyes again, feeling the cold wind on my skin.

I had been meditating for an hour, letting my chakra expand around me, when a subtle noise snapped me out of my concentration. An eagle descended gracefully and perched on my shoulder. In its beak, a sealed scroll. I took it calmly, immediately assuming it was a message from Fugaku.

I opened the scroll and skimmed the words.

"We need your sensory skills in the Sound Village. Depart immediately."

I sighed, feeling a mix of annoyance and resignation. It seems I've become too popular in Konoha for my detection abilities… and now they're sending me to the other end of the country. Great.

I got up lazily and walked to my tent to prepare my things.

The sun was beginning to set when I finally went to inform Orochimaru. I entered his tent without announcing myself. The place smelled of dampness and ink, a usual combination in his lair. In front of him, a Root ninja stood motionless, as if not even breathing.

Orochimaru shifted his gaze from the shinobi and smiled with his characteristic predatory expression.

"Oh, Arata..." his voice slid like a snake approaching its prey. "How unexpected. What do you need?"

I crossed my arms.

"I have to go."

He tilted his head slightly, with that gaze that seemed to pierce through you. Then, he let out a dry chuckle.

"What a pity..." he murmured, though his eyes said otherwise. "And here I was thinking I'd enjoy your presence a little longer."

I didn't respond to his game. I simply waited.

Orochimaru let out a theatrical sigh and cast a final glance at the Root ninja, as if deciding something.

"Well, well... I won't waste any more of your time. I just hope you don't waste this trip."

His tone had a hint of malicious amusement, as if he knew something I didn't. I didn't bother to ask. I simply nodded and turned around.

I felt his gaze on my back until I left the tent.

Orochimaru watched his silhouette until it disappeared into the shadows of the camp.

"Hmpf..." A low, almost amused whisper escaped his lips.

The Root shinobi remained motionless in front of him, waiting for orders. But Orochimaru was no longer paying attention to him. His thoughts were occupied with something else.

Arata.

He was an interesting creature.

His ambition—if he had any—was an enigma. Orochimaru loved enigmas.

"I don't owe you an answer."

He doesn't get impressed, doesn't seek to please, nor fears to challenge with his silence...

Few shinobi could be in his presence without feeling uneasy, without wondering what plans he had for them. But Arata simply faced him with the indifference of someone who doesn't fear being devoured. And that made him... entertaining.

Interesting. Very interesting.

Orochimaru closed his eyes for a moment, as if savoring an idea. Then, he spoke without looking at the Root shinobi.

"Follow his trail."

The ANBU nodded and disappeared without a sound.

Orochimaru rested his elbow on the table, letting his chin rest on his palm. His fingers drummed slowly on the damp wood.

"What is it that you truly seek, Arata?"

The question wasn't a mere passing curiosity. It was something Orochimaru needed to know.

Because in this world, there were only two types of people: those who were useful and those who were disposable. Arata didn't quite fit into either category yet. He wasn't loyal, but he wasn't predictable either. He didn't fear death, but he didn't seek it desperately either. And most importantly: he hadn't yet shown his limits. It wasn't hard to see why Fugaku and the Uchiha clan valued him so much. His sensory abilities were exceptional, yes, but what really caught attention was the way he moved on the board. He never mentioned his other abilities to them.

Orochimaru smiled, with that lazy, serpentine expression that hid a mind always in motion.

He leaned back, his low, drawn-out laugh filling the space.

After all, the most interesting secrets… always ended up revealing themselves.

The wind carried the scent of damp earth as Arata Uchiha moved forward with a firm step. The sun, filtering through the clouds, hurt his eyes with its relentless glare. His pupils narrowed in response, but that didn't stop him. His destination was set, his purpose clear.

However, a shiver ran down his back. He wasn't alone.

"Come out, little rat, or I'll kill you," his voice slid like a kunai's edge in the breeze.

There was a faint rustle in the branches before the Root ANBU emerged, shrouded in shadows, his emotionless mask hiding any trace of humanity.

"Arata Uchiha, threatening a Konoha ninja is treason."

The young Uchiha turned slowly, locking his gaze on his opponent. His crimson eyes spiraled until they reached their true form: the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.

"Treason?" Arata laughed coldly, tilting his head. "Don't talk to me about loyalty when you follow a man like Danzō."

The ANBU remained silent, but his posture tensed. He knew what it meant to face an Uchiha with that power.

Before he could react, I activated my Restriction.

Time fractured. The ANBU felt his body grow heavy, as if the entire world was trying to trap him in a whirlwind of shadows and distortion. He moved to draw his tanto, but his arm repeated the same motion. Over and over. Again and again.

"What... what the hell...?"

Cold sweat ran down his back as he realized he was trapped. No matter how much he tried to break free, his actions repeated in an endless loop. Panic began to seep through his training.

Arata watched him calmly, with the cruel superiority of a predator toying with its prey.

"How does it feel to be trapped in a cage you can never escape?"

The ANBU's eyes widened as he understood his enemy had the power to subdue the very flow of time.

But I wasn't done. With my Kannonbiraki Benihime Aratame, I used it with lethal intensity.

The ground beneath the ANBU's feet trembled. The pressure around his body became unbearable. And then...

CRACK!

The ground rose like a devouring monster, enveloping his body in a deadly embrace. His armor splintered under the pressure, his bones gave way with a sickening sound. Blood gushed in a dark pool as his organs were crushed mercilessly.

Screams of pain were stifled in his throat. In an instant, his existence was reduced to nothing more than a bloody wreck among the rubble.

Arata sighed.

"I didn't have time to play with you."

Taking one last look at the grotesque scene, he turned and continued on his way, his thoughts returning to a single name.

Sayuri.

A faint shadow of doubt crossed his mind.

How would she be now? Would she be safe?

Memories of her smile fluttered in my mind, but the darkness of my destiny kept pulling me forward. There was no time for distractions. Not now.

The Konoha hospital smelled of disinfectant and forced tranquility. In one of the rooms, Bruhil paused at the threshold, observing Nasli. She was sitting by the window, the afternoon light illuminating her serene face. Her body remained still, but her eyes, those eyes full of life, rested on him with sweetness.

"Nasli, I see you've become even more beautiful today," he said with his typical proud smile as he entered.

She looked at him with bright, expectant eyes.

Bruhil approached with his hands in his pockets and sighed.

"The war isn't over yet."

The light in Nasli's eyes dimmed slightly, her expression turning worried.

"Don't worry about me," he added, with an attempt at reassurance. "They've been assigning me fewer tasks since... well, you know."

He tilted his head, looking at his missing arm. Nasli kept her gaze fixed on him, still uneasy.

Bruhil smiled half-heartedly.

"Come on, don't look at me like that. You know I always keep my promises, right?"

She frowned slightly, as if wanting to retort, but only blinked.

"Besides," he continued, leaning slightly towards her, "I need to stay strong to protect you. I won't let anyone come and harm you."

Nasli's eyes softened, and in them appeared that silent smile only she could express.

"Look, I brought you this."

Bruhil pulled a small stuffed animal from his bag and showed it to her with a playful smile.

"I know you're an adult and all that, but... I want my love to always be with you."

Nasli blinked in surprise, and her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

"Well, I have to go," he said, leaning in to give her a soft kiss on the lips.

She looked at him tenderly, not taking her eyes off him for a single moment as he stood up to leave.

Bruhil left the room and began walking through the hospital corridors, but his expression changed. His muscles tensed, and in his mind, he returned to that day, eight years ago… The Kirigakure ninja. The culprit. The damn one who had left her like this.

He felt his blood boil and, without realizing it, his Sharingan activated. He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked.

"Someday…" he whispered through gritted teeth. "Someday I'll tear that son of a bitch to pieces."

Fury grew in his chest like a wildfire. He was going to get his revenge. And when the time came, no one would be able to stop him.